The History of England, Volume I | Page 5

even attacked by her baleful tooth;
and though I wantonly exposed myself to the rage of both civil and
religious factions, they seemed to be disarmed in my behalf of their
wonted fury. My friends never had occasion to vindicate any one
circumstance of my character and conduct: not but that the zealots, we
may well suppose, would have been glad to invent and propagate any
story to my disadvantage, but they could never find any which they
thought would wear the face of probability. I cannot say there is no
vanity in making this funeral oration of myself; but I hope it is not a
misplaced one; and this is a matter of fact which is easily cleared and
ascertained.
April 18, 1776.

LETTER
FROM
ADAM SMITH. LL. D.
To
WILLIAM STRAHAN, ESQ.
Kirkaldy, Fifeshire, Nov. 9, 1776
DEAR SIR,
It is with a real, though a very melancholy pleasure, that I sit down to
give you some account of the behaviour of our late excellent friend, Mr.
Hume, during his last illness.
Though in his own judgment his disease was mortal and incurable, yet
he allowed himself to be prevailed upon, by the entreaty of his friends,
to try what might be the effects of a long journey. A few days before he
set out, he wrote that account of his own life, which, together with his
other papers, he has left to your care. My account, therefore, shall begin
where his ends.
He set out for London towards the end of April, and at Morpeth met
with Mr. John Home, and myself, who had both come down from
London on purpose to see him, expecting to have found him at
Edinburgh. Mr. Home returned with him, and attended him, during the
whole of his stay in England, with that care and attention which might

be expected from a temper so perfectly friendly and affectionate. As I
had written to my mother that she might expect me in Scotland, I was
under the necessity of continuing my journey. His disease seemed to
yield to exercise and change of air, and when he arrived in London, he
was apparently in much better health than when he left Edinburgh. He
was advised to go to Bath to drink the waters, which appeared for some
time to have so good an effect upon him, that even he himself began to
entertain, what he was not apt to do, a better opinion of his own health.
His symptoms, however, soon returned with their usual violence, and
from that moment he gave up all thoughts of recovery, but submitted
with the utmost cheerfulness, and the most perfect complacency and
resignation. Upon his return to Edinburgh, though he found himself
much weaker, yet his cheerfulness never abated, and he continued to
divert himself, as usual, with correcting his own works for a new
edition, with reading books of amusement, with the conversation of his
friends, and sometimes in the evening with a party at his favourite
game of whist. His cheerfulness was so great, and his conversation and
amusements ran so much in their usual strain, that, notwithstanding all
bad symptoms, many people could not believe he was dying. "I shall
tell your friend, Colonel Edmonstone," said Doctor Dundas to him one
day, "that I left you much better, and in a fair way of recovery."
"Doctor," said he, "as I believe you would not choose to tell any thing
but the truth, you had better tell him, that I am dying as fast as my
enemies, if I have any, could wish, and as easily and cheerfully as my
best friends could desire." Colonel Edmonstone soon afterwards came
to see him, and take leave of him; and on his way home he could not
forbear writing him a letter, bidding him once more an eternal adieu,
and applying to him, as to a dying man, the beautiful French verses in
which the Abbé Chaulieu, in expectation of his own death, laments his
approaching separation from his friend the Marquis de la Fare. Mr.
Hume's magnanimity and firmness were such, that his most affectionate
friends knew that they hazarded nothing in talking or writing to him as
to a dying man, and that, so far from being hurt by this frankness, he
was rather pleased and flattered by it. I happened to come into his room
while he was reading this letter, which he had just received, and which
he immediately showed me. I told him, that though I was sensible how
very much he was weakened, and that appearances were in many

respects very bad, yet his cheerfulness was still so great, the spirit of
life seemed still to be so very strong in him, that I could not help
entertaining some faint hopes.